Baptism of our Lord C: Expecting the Messiah

Dear Partner in Preaching,

The first line of this week’s reading really grabbed my attention: “As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John….” What I find fascinating is not actually how John responding to all this attention; rather, I’m intrigued by the wondering and perhaps murmuring and even hoping among the people about whether John might be the promised Messiah in the first place. And that got me to thinking: “Are our people still expecting a Messiah?” Or, perhaps more accurately, “Who are our people looking to with expectation, wondering if he or she might be the one to save them?”

Because here’s the thing: I suspect we’re almost always hoping to find someone to save us. Sometimes the longed-for messiah operates on the national or world stage. Perhaps Hillary or the Donald or some other political candidate who promises to make right whatever we think is wrong about our country. Or maybe our sports hero or team (the Vikings, after all, did just beat the Packers to win the NFC North!), who make us feel like we’re a part of something bigger and, to boot, winners.

Sometimes the long-for messiah lives closer to home, however – that special someone who is a candidate for a new romantic relationship so that we’ll never feel lonely again. Or maybe we’re hoping to be saved by the people we work with, longing for them to tell us how indispensible we are. Or perhaps we expect to be saved by our children, as they grow up to fulfill all of our dreams for them (and, truth be told, for ourselves!).

Again, I think that we, like the people Luke describes, continue to be filled with expectation, wondering if various persons on the global stage or in our local circle might be the messiah. Even when they disappoint – and of course, they eventually all do – we keep looking with expectation for our personal messiah. Maybe we can’t help it.

But here’s the question: do we imagine Jesus is that Messiah?

Now, I know, I know, of course we think Jesus is the Messiah. If not, why would we be in church, right? Sure. But do we expect Jesus actually to save us – not just in the eternal get-out-of-hell-free-card kind of way, but actually to save us here and now, making a tangible difference in our everyday lives? I’m not so sure. Which is kind of a shame, as it seems like the whole point of the incarnation was for God to get involved in our lives, personally and directly.

Luke, of course, doesn’t have the same “theology of incarnation” that we encountered over Christmas in the beginning of John’s Gospel, but we’re getting something quite close in today’s reading, as Luke reports that “the heaven was opened” and God spoke directly to Jesus. It’s a moving and dramatic scene – Jesus emerging from the waters of baptism as the Spirit alights upon him. But I think we sometimes forget the power and symbolism of the scene the Evangelists depict, as God moves from the heavenly realm to encounter Jesus – and, through Jesus, all of us – on our own terrain. God removes, that is, all that separates us from God and meets us where we are.

This is the power of Baptism – that God has opened up the heavens, descended from on high, and come to meet us where we are and as we are… all in order that we might know that we, too, are beloved children of God and that God is well pleased also with us.

Yes, Jesus is our messiah, the one who identified with us, bearing the presence of God into our world tangibly, dying for our sins, and defeating death through his resurrection. And if we take that seriously, two things occur. First, we don’t have to find messiahs all around us. We can support our favorite political candidate or sports team, hope for a good relationship and great colleagues, knowing that we will not be saved by these things. Indeed, we will regularly be disappointed by and, truth be told, disappoint these persons. But they will not save. And that’s okay, because God in Jesus has done just that.

Second, once we realize that we don’t need another messiah, it frees us up to make a huge difference in the world and in the lives of those around us. We, after all, are those people named by God as beloved children and chosen by God to do wonderful things in the world.

Can you imagine, for a second, if everyone who supported a particular candidate decided to take responsibility for some aspect of the problems we hope our elected leaders will solve? Or if instead of waiting for that special someone to find us we went out looking to befriend those who are lonely or less fortunate? And what if we simply valued our colleagues or children or neighbors for who they are, not for what they can do for us? The world would, in very short order, be a remarkably different place.

On this Sunday, Dear Partner, we remember the Baptism of our Lord. And many, many sermons (included more than a few that I’ve preached!) will urge us to remember our baptismal identity as part of our celebration. And this is well and good. But perhaps on this day we might remind ourselves that because Jesus came as Lord of the heavens and Son of God we don’t need any other messiahs; and because Jesus came as one of us, we are also caught up in the power of the creating and redeeming God. We are, that is, those people who do not need to save the world but have been called and equipped to make a tangible difference to that little corner of the world in which we find ourselves.

Thank you for speaking these words and naming this promise, Dear Partner, as you have a congregation filled with people called by God to be messiah – to be, that is, Christ – to those all around them. Blessings on your life and ministry.

Yours in Christ,
David

 

Post image: “The Baptism of Christ” by Pietro Perugino, 1483.